Relapse
by Dante Luke Alexander
Summary: Hell; that is the only possible way to describe Eren's life. His father's an alcoholic that likes to take his anger out on others such as Carla and Eren. To make matters worse, his mother is simply too forgiving when it comes to Grisha's abusive behaviors and therefore Eren is stuck with no way to escape. Will anyone be able to save Eren in time?
1. Chapter 1: Intro

The dim light cast by the moon of midnight glistened off my eternally stained, metallic friend. As both it and I lay in silence, my house is filled with the screams of a beautiful, young mother who has been bound to this torture by her brusque husband who had fallen victim to the addiction of alcohol. As my quivering hands stay pressed to my aching ears every night, the thick liquid streams down my arms from the brand new wounds that now cover up the scars of previous nights spent alone in my room.

As the sun finally begins to rise the sounds of my parents fighting subside; not all at once, but over an extended period of time. The second the voices die down to my mother's pained weeping and my father's intoxicated snores, my hands rip themselves from my numb ears. At first it takes me a moment to comprehend the severity of this situation, seeing as I had once again shut myself away from the pain that I feel both physically and mentally. Once my head was back on straight, I opened the door to my bedroom and peered out to see only the flashing light of the television making it's way into view. I quickly close my door, shutting myself away until I feel that I am able to speak to my now injured mother.

As I try my damnedest to settle down, I wrap a blanket around my bare shoulders. The friction of the material against my most recent flesh wounds causes a pained gasp to fall out from between my pale lips that have been torn open one time too many by my own clenched teeth. The gross gasp of discomfort quickly fades into the annoying silence of running electronics and my own soft inhales and exhales.

Before I can even shut my heavy eyelids, the alarm goes off in it's overly monotone manner. My numb fingers slowly hit the button to stop the continuous tone once my exhausted mind registers the symbolical sound. Despite my want and need to close my weary eyes and disconnect myself from the harsh reality, my legs lift me up, off the bed, and my fingers let the cloth slip down, caressing my thin frame, until it's back on my bed.

I place pants on my long legs, a shirt to embrace my chest, and a sweatshirt over my marred arms. Once my pale, thin frame is covered, I go to leave. My feet stop in their tracks as I catch the morning rays glistening brightly off my only friend; my one and only switchblade. I stare down at the metallic weapon that is encrusted in dry crimson when I hear the quick tapping of rushed footsteps. Automatically, my hand shoots forward, gripping the open tool in my palm as my bedroom door brusquely flies open. I grimace as the blade sinks into my hand at the audaciousness of the door connecting with the wall.

As my mother explains the escape plan I feel warm liquid run down my folded fingers, dripping onto the hardwood only after losing it's grip on my knuckles. The young woman in front of me is so hysterical that she doesn't seem to notice the pain hidden on my face or the continuous leak of my vital fluid behind my back.

Seconds later, she's running off to her room to gather her clothes and minimal belongings. As she does so I hastily pocket my only source of comfort, wiping up my hand and the splatters of red on the floor before doing the same as my green-eyed mother. I pack my few outfits and treasured items before my mom is dragging me out of the house that held both many good and bad memories for us all.

****The one who has raised me randomly pulls me into the vehicle of soft blue and she then quickly starts the engine, driving off to any place that may offer solace.

After falling asleep to the feeling of being in a safe vehicle and not having to go to school the next day, I was blessed with surprisingly good dreams for once in my hellish life. This slumber somehow brings forth a beautiful warmth in my chest and causes a rare, upward curve of my lips. My mother must have noticed my soft smile due to her commenting to herself on my uncommon expression.

"I haven't seen that smile in a while," she giggled softly, not caring if my state was still one of the unconscious or one of the awake and living. "I was truly beginning to worry," she let out a sigh of relief before continuing her rambling. After a while I quit the charades, noticing that our car had come to a long, final stop. My eyes flickered opened slowly, connecting with the old building with disgustingly rusty, metal steps, and ancient, graffiti-ed brick.

"Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?" Her tone was soft and genuinely sincere as she gently brushed my overgrown bangs out of my eyes.

"I guess," I shrugged my heavy shoulders, staring at the rundown building.

At my words, my mother gave me a quick-to-fade, bruised and broken, smile. "He didn't get the chance to lay a hand on you, did he?" She asked, head tilted down, brown hair messily falling in front of her bruised face, hands tightly gripping the steering wheel.

Cold chills run down my back, forcing a shocked jump out of me at the question. At the mention of father's abuse my hands instinctively move to cover the already clothed bruises and wounds.

****"Oh...baby no! I-i'm so sorry! This is all my fault!" Tears filled her eyes as she pulled me into her bosom, her collarbone already turning shades of purple and yellow in front of my eyes.

As my mother cried into my hair, I let tears escape my foreign-painted eyes, head still against her chest. For once I wasn't judged for letting the tears caress my cheeks and fall from my chin. Due to finally gaining some comfort, we both held each other tightly as we wept away the pain that had accumulated over the malevolent years.

Rain clouds filled the darkening sky as we finally headed out of the vehicle. Before we grabbed our luggage my mother decided to get the key from the landlady. I waited by our 1992 Buick while my mother spoke to the woman about the possible two-room apartment.

When the young brunette came sulking back to the vehicle, I immediately knew to plan for the worst.

"M-mother?" My voice help a saccharine tone.

"Get back in the vehicle before it rains," she sighed, voice broken. "We'll have to find another complex before the storm hits." Carla moved past me, opening the driver's side door and shutting herself in the warmth of the enclosed vehicle. I quickly follow, pulling myself into the passenger seat. We searched for an open apartment room that we could afford, but came up empty handed; most too expensive, others just unsuitable for a young mother and her 16-year old son. After failing multiple times, we were bound in a parking lot by the insanely heavy rain. As liquid poured forth from the grey skies, the lightning flashed, thunder roared, and floods formed. The two of us swiftly fell asleep to the incessant pitter-patter of the monstrous raindrops against the practically ancient vehicle.

****A new day is usually what one would consider a new beginning, a restart if you may, however my mother and I couldn't simply redo things because we were eternally stuck in an endless downward spiral that was eternally irreversible. Not only did we fail to find an apartment and end up sleeping in a seemingly prehistoric car while we barely made it through a flash flood, but now we were slinking back to the drunken abusive man that dares to call himself my father. Damn did life hate me right now.

Our Buick rolled up to the front of our decent sized, tan brick house. Mother and I hesitantly sauntered out, regretting our loss of locating a liveable housing unit. I quietly unlocked the front door, slowly pushing it open to reveal a clean living space, some bottles located sporadically throughout the room. I gathered my strength and tip-toed in, finding my father at the end of our simple kitchen table, fingers intertwined, knuckles white from a firm grip, and grief filling the confines of his face.

My mother gently patted my shoulder before moving past me towards my teary-eyed, dick-of-a-father. I quickly shot my dominant hand out towards the soft-hearted brunette but my father's eyes were on her before I had the chance to save her from the oncoming hell of devious lies and false pleas of forgiveness.

****"Oh, Carla!" My father jumped up from his wooden chair, wrapping his arms around my mother. I felt my knuckles clench tightly in anger. If the long-haired, glasses-wearing abuser turned against my kind mother, my fists would fly without hesitation.

"Grisha, you realize the pain you have dealt upon us, correct?" Her voice was sincerely soft as she stood stiffly wrapped in the man's arms.

"I-i don't know what's happened to me! Work became stressful after the patient didn't make it and then I began to rely on alcohol to take the pain of my self-incrimination away." He now held my mother away, arms gripping her petite shoulders. "Please forgive me Carla! I truly am repenting for the sin of laying a hand on my wife; not once, but on multiple occasions!" He spoke, wiping tears from his eyelids that hid behind his old-fashioned glasses.

"Grisha, you better not be lying or I will leave with our son even if we're forced to take all the money and run." She spoke, clearly deceived by his false apologies.

"I have no reason to lie to the one that I truly love!" His fingers were now roughly grasping his stained button-up just above where the human heart is embedded into the body. My caribbean eyes could see through his words and I knew just how damned my life truly was.

To show that my father was serious about the end of his alcohol addiction and abuse, he had us all move to a house, claiming the transfer to be our 'New Beginning'. We chose a simple, three bedroom house in the neighboring city of Maria Grove. I would now be attending their famous school, Sina High, as a junior. To make matters worse for me, Sina was a very stuck up school due to their genius academic scores, unstoppable athletic records, and generous benefactors. Despite the rich community, we managed to buy our little yellow house in a quiet, middle class chunk, just near the outskirts of Maria Grove. Hopefully my life wasn't totally ruined by my father's so-called 'Change of Heart'.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes: **Chapter 3 will be up very soon! I apologize for the long wait on chapter 2 but I was having troubles getting the document onto ! I hope you all enjoy!

IMPORTANT MESSAGE: Levi's P.O.V.

This chapter gives us a few hints as to how Levi is currently living. There are a couple of points made on how he used to live but there is more to come!

Chapter Three Info:  
When Once Becomes Twice and Twice Becomes Thrice... (Part 2)  
Levi's P.O.V.  
More hints on Levi's current and past life  
First meeting

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**Chapter 2:**

**When Once Becomes Twice, and Twice Becomes Thrice**

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Levi's Point of View

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ - Indicates Time Skip

* * *

Days seem to simply go by. The pains of yesterday forgotten by the somewhat brighter, new days. Sure my past isn't something to be proud or happy of but I've taken the high road into a better way of living. I mean seriously, look where I am now! I own a three bedroom house on the outskirts of a fairly rich city and I'm the captain of my own chosen crew at Trost; a company that designs and sells catalogues on our fellow business's materials.

The job doesn't sound like a lot but it's always a bitch to meet deadlines when you're whole crew specializes at one certain part of the process and can simply throw everyone off if they don't do their job right. So, as my team is separated by photographer, writer, editor, and computer designer, I am the only one capable of doing all four jobs efficiently. So, I help out wherever I can before sharing the final copy and sending it to the printers. Sometimes after especially hard weeks my group and I grab a quick drink or I go home, sit on my porch, and enjoy a good cigarette.

"Two rejects in one fucking week," I click my tongue in irritation as my teammates practically collapse from exhaustion before my eyes. "Everyone rest up this weekend and be ready for yet another busy start on Monday," I finish our meeting up with words of care for my somewhat annoying co-workers.

Once every member is safely on their ways home, I stop in by my Boss, the C.E.O. of Trost; Erwin Smith. We have a brief meeting about the final product before I'm released to go home for the weekend. I give the other's on the floor a wave goodbye as I head into the neat elevator. I grip the needed documents in my right hand as the elevator opens to a dimly lit parking garage where I and many others leave their cars.

I take the 1969 black Corvette for a ride through the town until the sleek car pulls into a familiar driveway that sits on a quiet little street known as Rose Boulevard. My body, as if by memory, moves by itself, carrying me into the neat blue-ish house. Dropping the materials, I kick my shoes off and go to change into some decent casual wear.

Once my body is cloaked in a more comfortable manner, I slide my outdoor slippers on and take a seat on my simple wooden porch. As I light my first cigarette of the day, my silver eyes catch the beautiful oranges and purples of the evening sky. I take a few long, soothing drags, my peace suddenly interrupted by the sound of bickering and the sight of a moving truck.

My body turns away from the view of the lover's quarrel as my mind practically dares me to sit and watch as the couple yell openly at each other. The dark side wins and I can't help but watch the two out of the corner of my eye as I listen in to the heated conversation just a mere 4 houses down.

"It was your idea to move here and now you're upset that you have to help us carry the furniture in! Grisha, what the hell is wrong with you!" The seemingly young spitfire yells at the older looking male.

"Carla, I'm the man of the house and I make the rules!" He aggressively pointed towards himself to show emphasis. "If I pay for the house then it's your job to earn your keep!"

"What!" She retorts loudly, voice traveling a ways. "I'm not some slave, Grisha! I'm your wife!" Her words startle me slightly seeing as she looks a good ten years younger than the other.

"Then get your worthless son to help," he rolls his eyes, hands being thrown up in increasing anger.

"Eren shouldn't have to work so hard! He's got enough on his plate right now seeing as he'll be starting school with a body full of bruises thanks to someone," she clearly hints at the last part causing the other to snap.

At the continued mention of their child, I expect to see an elementary school brat run out seeing as the mother looked to be only a few years older than me, if even that. To my utmost surprise, a teen runs out to break up the battle.

At this point, many thoughts are running at the sight of this peculiar, three person family. It was obviously clear that 'Grisha' was the father and 'Eren' was the son but…. was 'Carla' truly the boy's mother? During the dispute I remember clearly hearing the word 'wife' out of the woman with a messy ponytail that lays her hair over one of her petite shoulders. Was 'Carla' perhaps the stepmother? No, the boy looked too much like her to be from another's womb. I shake my head in confusion, flicking the worthless cigarette butt to the ground before stepping on it and heading back inside to clear my mind.

Only two days later and I was receiving a gentle set of knocks on my door. I stopped, mid-cleaning, to welcome the uninvited guests.

"Hello, my name is Carla Yeager and this is my son, Eren. We've recently moved into the yellow house just down the street," she kindly greeted, raising from her bow. I gave her a simple nod before my eyes found the other standing behind her.

My breath slightly hitched as my silver orbs landed on the other's face. His eyes could only be described as the color 'Strong Titan Green'. The irises were a gentle mix of blues and greens that practically pulled you into them. As my whole being felt as if it was being absorbed into those enticing eyes, Carla spoke words that went unregistered.

After a few more seconds of swimming in the pools of Eren's teal orbs, my eyes were moved to the dessert that the young woman presented to me with a warm smile. I gave my thanks before my metallic eyes once again moved to Eren. His rough, stone-washed jeans, and baggy sweatshirt didn't come close to matching his mother's neat yellow button up with brown shorts.

"I welcome you to the neighborhood," I replied, extending a hand to take the gift. "My name is Levi. It's a pleasure to meet you both." Carla and I shared a firm handshake, Eren staying behind with a bored, lost expression on his face that most likely mirrored my own emotionless face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you as well Mr. Levi," the young woman smiled. "Oh, before I forget, that's some homemade raspberry pie." My eyes glanced down to the warm dish in my hands.

"Well, to show my thanks, would you two care for some tea?" As much as I disliked to invite people into my clean house, I couldn't help but want to learn more about the peculiar family.

Before answering, Carla sent a questioning glance to the teen. Eren gave a simple shrug and so she accepted the offer. "We'd love that! It's a good chance for us to get to know some of our neighbors." They followed in behind me, taking their shoes off quickly before exiting the entry way.

Carla and I had held a decent conversation for a good hour. She had now discovered a lot about me, but I had also obtained a fair amount of information on her own life and family. Many of my questions had been answered therefore I gave the time to reply to any of her inquiries. I had now learned that Eren was currently sixteen going on seventeen in a few months. Carla herself had just recently celebrated her thirty-second birthday. Once the ages came out, I openly asked the young woman about her family. The brunette was surprisingly open about her teen pregnancy however she did clearly avoid the subject of her thirty-nine year old husband; Grisha.

During our time spent drinking a rich Rose Jam Tea, Eren remained a closed off mute. To my astonishment, Carla had quite the interesting life; she moved from Germany to America at the age of eleven, got pregnant at fifteen, raised a little boy by herself, and completed her education. She happened to be quite the inspiration, my story now seemingly dull in comparison to hers. It wasn't a surprise to see that my fake life story was boring considering the fact that I made it all up in a matter of minutes.

I spent a fairly good night staring at the ceiling, letting my imagination run wild. As one painful memory lead to another, the bright light of the sun began to childishly peek over the massive mountains. To my dismay, my weekend was quickly coming to an end.

Two seemingly uneventful weeks went by and my life was as conventional as ever. The only major differences in my simple life were the disturbingly unsanitary bottles that lay scattered in the Yeager's yard and the annoying bursts of yelling at awkward hours of the morning (despite the fact that I usually don't sleep). My first initial thought was that Eren was simply a druggie who had rowdy friends over sometimes. I also figured that his parents might've been too busy with work to clean up their yard and take care of their child.

My thoughts however changed slightly when I found out that Carla was a stay-at-home mom who held many bruises on her young, tan skin.

"Oh my gosh!" Petra whined, "they want us to do it again?" Everyone in the crew freaked out when our plan had been rejected for the third time this week.

"Change the backgrounds on pages two, three, six, and ten; they look like shit. Oluo, fix your fucking descriptions on the rustic kitchen set and the child's desk-bed. Gunther, check the frickin' pieces once Oluo's done with that crap. If we can pull through and get this shit done today we may actually get to go home while it's still fucking Friday!" I explained the plan and they all got set on the tasks at hand.

Four hours were over in the blink of an eye and we somehow managed to complete the final copy earlier than expected. What usually takes us a good six hours to fix was completed in only what seemed to be a few short moments.

"They accepted the final product so we may all head home, take a shit, and get to bed early for once," I informed the team from behind the completed project. A huge wave of relieved sighs washed over our conference room as everyone sunk into their cushioned chairs. "Have a fucking wonderful weekend and be ready for the shitty rush on Monday," the debriefing concluded and we all headed our own ways. My path first led me to Erwin's office just over two hours earlier than usual.

"Levi, what do I owe the honor of you visiting me this early in the evening?" He spoke, reading over multiple packets of paper.

"We completed the fucking project," I threw the catalogue on his desk, the sound causing him to look over at the piece of work. His sky blue eyes then met mine.

"Your team is our elite group that produces the best material however I do openly admit that I'm surprised to see a finished product on my desk before six o'clock."

"Yeah, whatever, just look at it so I can go home and enjoy a fun-fucking-tastic weekend."

"You're as blunt as ever," he scoffed.

"Whatever Captain frickin' America. Now, will you please look at the shitty piece of junk?"

"Yeah, I guess I could since you were kind enough to say please," he smirked, my eyes naturally rolling.

I spent a good ten minutes in complete silence as he read through and took in all the details of the project. After a few moments, I began to tap my fingers out of habit. My neatly trimmed nails clicking against the wood of the chair's arm caught his attention.

"Alright, looks good." He smiled as he ran a hand through his slicked back bangs.

"That's it?" I raised a curious eyebrow at his brief conclusion.

"Well, it's been completed nicely. I have no real complaints on this catalogue's look so either you can stay and wait until you get bored or you can escape before Hanji gets here with my dinner."

"Yeah, I really don't feel like dealing with-" A foot connected with the door and in barged the brunette with a single plate of food in one hand.

"Ewin!~ I brought you're-..." Brown orbs connected with black silky hair and gray, stormy eyes. "OH MY GOD, LEVI!" She squealed, throwing the plate up in pure excitement.

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance as her arms wrapped around me in a tight embrace. "Shitty glasses, you better let go in the next five seconds or I'm going to kick your fucking filthy ass all the way into the next state!"

"Oh Levi," she twirled around with her arms still keeping me in a disturbingly dirty hell. "I've missed you so much!" She ruffled my clean and neat hair. "Ever since Erwin moved you from being his apprentice, I haven't gotten to see you much!" The room then oddly fell silent, her fingers snaking their way to my arms. She held my shoulders tightly enough to leave brownish yellow bruises.

"Oi, what's your problem all of a sudden, shitty glass-" my voice caught in my suddenly dry throat as I noticed her bi-polar expression change. Brown eyes no longer blown open wide but in a deep, serious glare. I quickly shifted my eyes to Erwin, his face also pensive.

"Levi," her voice called me back, my attention once again on her. "Has everything been going okay?" Her brown eyes were taking in every detail of my face and body.

"If you mean what I think you do, then yes, everything is fine. If you don't believe me then check," I spoke, my gaze unwavering. Her hands moved down from my buffed arms until they reached the pronounced bump of my wrists. She wrapped her long, dirty fingers around the cuff of my button-up as she looked over to Erwin. Captain America gave Shitty Glasses a nod and then the woman was suddenly up in my face again.

"Get the fuck outta my face sh-

"Levi," she interrupted my usual name calling, "it's not that we don't trust you but it's better to be safe than sorry, right?" Tears had filled her insane eyes for some reason. Her body trembling with both guilt and curiosity. I rolled my eyes at her over-dramatic manner as she unlatched the little black buttons on each of my sleeves. She suspensefully rolled the large arms of my shirt up until both my inner elbows were bare. My porcelain flesh held no marks, wounds, or bruises and Jani let out quite the audacious sigh of relief. Her hands were finally released from my body as she gave Erwin a reassuring nod.

"I've already told you guys that I haven't touched any of that shit once I started this fucking shitty ass job." I unrolled my paper white sleeves, rebuttoning the cuffs.

"It hasn't even been a full year yet, Levi. We just want to make sure that you don't relapse again." Erwin spoke, his large hand gripping my shoulder gently. Disliking his dirty fingers on me, I slapped his palm away.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." My eyes did yet another antagonized lap as I applied pressure to the aching bridge of my nose. "I'm doing fine without you two worrying and nagging like mothers," my orbs moved from Hanji to Erwin.

"Well, I'm sorry if I care about you too much Levi but we just don't want to find you in some dark alleyway beaten up and high as a kite again." Erwin's orbs held a level of authority.

"Seriously, shut the fuck up."I truly didn't feel the need to talk about my shitty drug addiction at work of all places.

"Levi, you were so high that you didn't even know that you were bleeding out! You just sat there talking about some dead guy as your stab wound was practically gushing blood everywhere!" Hanji spoke, her usual tone as loud and vexatious as always.

"Whatever," I turned my back to the worrywart duo, "I'm heading home." I wanted to get off the tough subject as soon as humanly possible and the only way to do that, was to get out of Hanji's field of vision.

"Levi, you have to stop running from your past!" The young woman tried stopping me. Truthfully, her words caused my hands to clam up into tight fists, knuckles quickly turning white. Neither Werin or Hanji new everything of my rotten past and I wasn't going to sit down and tell them anytime soon either.

"Goodbye shitty glasses." I made my way to the door, turning back to make proper eye contact with the handsome blond. "Have a fucking wonderful night, Eyebrows." I then took my leave after saying my evening farewells.

Supper was a success, the dishes were now clean, and it was my time to destress. I grabbed the white, plastic wrapped box and moved out to my front porch. I sat down on the top step, feet planted on another. The carton now lay in both my hands my thumbs running over the embossed text. A heavy sigh slips from my dry lips as I realize just how weak I really am; using cigarettes as a legal replacement for the old heroin and cocain that I used to intake.

My substitute realization caused unneeded thoughts and anger. I messily tear the plastic off, break open the package, and trash the foil. Twenty white and orange sticks sat neatly in the carton, filter-side up. A puff of air travels out my nostrils as two of my fingers gently pinch the first cigarette in the box, pulling it out carefully. Once the one white and orange cancer stick was free of it's previous confines, I moved it so it sat comfortably in my small hands. Like some, I held the cigarette between my pointer and middle finger. I part my cracked lips, placing the toxic object part way into my mouth. I then rest my muscles, the cigarette hanging off my parched lips at an angle. My free hand rummages through my generally empty front pockets, soon finding a cheap lighter. I brought both of my pale hands up, quickly lighting the cigarette. I began with generally small intakes, moving on to long drags only shortly after. Every few inhales of the tainted toxic oxygen, I would flick my wrist carefully to knock off any access ashes. My actions continued through three of the white and orange cancer sticks.

As I unconsciously went to grab and light yet another, my seemingly repetitive actions were stopped by loud, thunderous yells that couldn't quite be understood by someone sitting outside.

As my fingers tightly gripped the white package, eyes staring down the street, the random audacious sounds continued. It wasn't entirely uncommon for families to fight but it was quite rare to be able to hear it from a few houses away. To no surprise, the sounds continued for a while, the sun now setting behind the far off mountains.

A few more minutes and I had completely lost interest in the current feud going on just down the road. I got up from my spot, stretching quickly to relieve the aching muscles that had developed over the last refreshing hour or two. Just as I was heading into my home, my stormy eyes caught the new neighbors' white door flying open. To my astonishment, the voices of the family could be easily heard over the maddening silence of our little community.

"Grisha, let Eren go!" The first sentence clearly coming from Carla held weak sternness but great concern. Inexplicably, a reply of slurred curses and gibberish filled the empty streets.

My curiosity and general human worry drove me to move only a few steps closer. Just as I made it off my large white porch, my whole body tightened at the scene playing out in front of my eyes.

Hands gripping the young boy's shirt tightly, Eren now outside on the small deck as his attacker remained hidden behind the stuck door. Next thing I knew, the kid was brutally pulled forward, a fist connecting with his cheek, the power behind the punch clear as Eren brusquely stumbled. Seeing as the brat was shoved back into a type of free fall, his footing was off, causing him to miss a step. He clearly landed roughly on the ground however he was quick to scatter to his feet and dodge an oncoming liquor bottle. The boy was hastily running away as Carla and the long-haired man yelled at one another. I was unsure if I should step in or not but decided against it seeing as my whole body was stiff as a board.

As I hesitated on the corner of my property, Eren flashed by. Our peculiarly unique eyes met for a mere millisecond during his brisk escape but it honestly felt like we were standing there for hours, frozen in time. So many emotions were trapped in his teal orbs that I felt like I was being crushed beneath the accumulated burden of them all. Despite my past, I was not able to register his rapid movements fast enough to stop him from running away the pain. My delay had been due to my mind trying to memorize his tear-stained face in just a brief moment of eye-to-eye contact. I was unable to save him from running head first into a bigger mess and it was all because I was too enticed by how revealing his foreign eyes truly were.

I stood there, still as a frickin' rock. My body riddled with guilt knowing that I didn't do anything at all even after seeing Eren's pained expression. The boy had had tears caressing his sun-kissed skin, blood dripping from his nose, a cut up lip, and a terrified look that was practically begging someone, anyone, to save him.

I had clearly missed a huge opportunity to better someone's life; something others usually had to do with me due to my sketchy past. I had guiltily let someone go and suffer on their own, personally knowing just how lonely and miserable it is to grieve in silence. My ambivalence could lead to this kid getting seriously fucked up; he could be kidnapped, raped, killed, or even forced to do drugs. I had practically let a shitty brat go and take a chance at ruining his life. I could have easily grabbed him and helped him but I had simply left him to his own devices; something that could prove to be fatal if he makes any choices resembling the ones that I had made when I was about his age.

The thoughts and guilt struck a cavernous nerve within me. 'This fucking shitty brat could turn up dead and it could have been stopped by the simple act of offering up a safe haven to escape to.' My mistake may very well have just created a fucked up monster modernly parallel to the 'Rivaille' that roamed the streets only months ago.

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**Notes: **

Hey there again everyone! I've got a few things to say and ask before you can get on with your beautiful lives!

1.) I'd like to thank my friends and beta readers; Oreogirl, not harley, and Jason Sixx for helping me to edit this long chapter!

2.) I'd like to ask how you, my readers, feel about monthly updates (30-35 days)? Is it too long of a wait?

3.) If you have any songs that fit to the story so far, please do share them with me so I can add them to my song list!

4.) Do you have any ideas, comments, questions, edits, or critiques for Relapse? If you do, feel free to comment bellow or contact me at one of the following links:

E-Mail: vampireglub

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Fanfiction: /u/4141389/Dante-Luke-Alexander


	3. Chapter 3: When Once Becomes Twice

The light of day awoke my numb body from it's thoroughly confused stupor. My stormy eyes searched the plain rom for anything familiar. The dark leather furniture made it easy to recognize where I was and how I got there.

After witnessing the new neighbor boy, Eren, running away from home, I had entered my home, the heavy guilt weight on me already, I knew I had screwed up but instead of perhaps righting my wrong I just went inside and sulked. If my actions weren't going to come back and bite me in the ass then I'm sure my thoughts were already making up for my mistakes. I had spent all night going back over some of my roughest moments; escaping my adoptive father's house, trying my first snort of cocaine, and so much more. Every thing that came to me afterwards were things that I simply wish I could forget.

If the reminiscing wasn't painful enough for me then the fact that I didn't get even a single wink of sleep was. Truthfully, my body begged and pleaded for rest but everytime I try, I find myself awake; the fear of my past catching up with me both in dream or reality being the main reason. If I'm correct, today marked the sixth night in which I couldn't fall or stay asleep. Therefore, in the last week, my total number of hours spent asleep are anywhere between 10 and 12 hours which just so happens to be four times less than the needed eight hours every night. If everything wasn't hard enough already, I've got a terrible case of OCD that only makes sleeping even harder because I'm constantly worrying about things being clean and organized.

Seeing as I don't get a lot of sleep, mornings are a struggle. Hell, mornings have always been a struggle but I've somehow managed to get my mind and body into a routine that works for me. So, despite passing out on my couch, I slowly get up from the developed warmth before going into my kitchen and starting the coffee machine. While my version of an energy drink is brewing, I leave for the shower. Despite my dislike for germs, I spend only a few moments underneath the cleansing heat of the water. Once out I dress for the day and then grab the hot drink to wake me up from my seemingly endless fatigue.

Due to it being the weekend, I decide to tidy the house. After the main work is done, I finally open my blinds, my seemingly spotless home now visible to other passerbyes. The dusting, sweeping, and washing continue until I find that every nook and cranny has been erased of any visible imperfection.

Just as noon rolls around, I place myself in front of my expensive, curved television. As I sit and relax after yet another good, home cooked meal and cleaning session, I catch something out of the corner of my eyes.

Here Eren is, sulking back home after a night of absence. He looks generally okay, clearly not drunk and staggering or high and hallucinating. My worries from last night subside, my body feeling suddenly lighter. Seeing as he's returning home as if nothing happened while he was gone, I figure that the fight wasn't anything too serious.

Three days later and everything is as normal as ever…..except for the fucking dark clothed bitch running out in front of my frickin' car and almost wrecking the hood of my vehicle! I almost ruined my car and ran over some shit-for-brains kid! I immediately began cursing at the fucker, soon giving up and just deciding to go home before the dick comes at me and my car with some punk-ass weapon.

Everything was beginning to become weird as I began to see a running boy in loose jeans and a baggy sweatshirt almost every other evening. Hoping that these sighting weren't a sign of my past catching up to me, I chalked it up to being a complete coincidence.

Three weeks and this whole fukcing thing was getting fishy as hell. Who repetitively finds some dark, covered up dipshit running around at odd times of the night? Either this person's a gan brat or just some filthy street rat. On my available, upcoming weekend, I decided to check it out.

"Don't you think you're just being paranoid?" Hanji laughed, clapping me roughly on the shoulder.

"She's right, Levi. It's probably just some kid sneaking to his girlfriend's house every now and then." Erwin clearly was on Shitty Glasses's side.

"Still, what if it is someone I used to know? What if they are from my days back on the streets?" Hanji then began to poke at me, singing the word 'paranoid' into my ear multiple times.

"You know what, screw the both of you! I hope some asshole beats the living shit out of you two!" I spoke brusquely, the seriousness of the conversation clearly not being reciprocated.

Just as I left, Erwin replied with a simple, "be safe." Frickin' Captain America tried to make amends! His attempt was however futile at the current moment as I walked through the empty parking garage. At every single sound or shadow, I checked my surroundings. Once finally in my car, I realized that they were probably right; 'no one's after me.'

My drive home was an interesting one, my attention on any sound or movement around me. As I reached the neighboring street just to the right of my own, I let out a heavy sigh of relief, realizing that I wasn't going to see some (possibly dangerous) prick. As I released a heavy breath, my fatigued eyes closed for a mere moment. The next thing I knew, a kid pops in front of my vehicle AGAIN! My foot hits the break, both of us clearly weren't paying as much attention as we could have. Due to the close call our bodies are clearly tense, both our eyes wide.

After almost a minute of trying to catch our breaths, we recognize each other. I personally notice the beautiful teal eyes filled with tears first. The color clearly only adorning one brat's irises; Eren Yeager's.

As he notices that I obviously know who he is -despite the bloody nose and overflowing tears- he mad dashes it down the opposite street in which I was heading. A single cuss slips my lips and I turn my vehicle into the next lane, my blinker changing. I go to follow the kid, rounding the corner.

Personally, I'm not quite sure of what my thoughts on this current situation are but all I do know is that I'm gonna track this kid down and find out why he's running around way past curfew all the damn time.

Using my vehicle, I quickly catch up to the running brat. If I could, I'd simply roll the passenger window down and try to get him to stop but seeing as my car is from 1969, you literally have to 'roll' the window down. I would've used the lever to crank the glass open but it was a dangerous thing to do while driving at night and I truly wasn't going to risk crashing my sleek, black, collector's Corvette.

Seeing as I wasn't going to take any chances with my only mode of transportation, I was going to use the car's horn. Just as my hand was going to alert the kid via sound, I realized that it was too late to use the horn and wake everyone up like a huge jackass.

Noting that my options were very limited, I tried cutting him off and following him. Sadly, I lost him when he cut down a special sidewalk that vehicles couldn't access for another 3 blocks. I tried to get to the end of the walking trail but I was stopped by two lights and clearly missed him. After tailing him this far, I decided to head back home; my efforts nothing but a lost cause.

There, I sat on the front porch, cigarette visible in the darkness that the night provided. As I relaxed, staring at the fluttering orange-ish ashes that fell from the lit butt, thoughts were running through my head. I had so many questions that seemed to always bring me back to the image of Eren's sullen look, tear-filled eyes, and bloodied nose. Perhaps he was in a fight, got beat up, and was running from the jerks? Maybe that's why he ran from me! For all one knows, he took me for one of the dicks he got into a scuffle with.

After finishing two cigarettes off, I entered my house for yet another sleep deprived night.

As the sun began to taunt me by coming through any small gap in my blinds, I got up from my bed to live through yet another tiring day. Cleaning and getting ready were my first priorities as always. Once the two main tasks were done, I moved on to other things such as fixing items and then cleaning up the outdoors. Just as I was about to head outside to pick the disgusting weeds infecting my front garden, the supposedly helpful song, 'Better than Drugs' by Skillet, (that Shitty Glasses set as my ringtone) echoed through my generally empty house. I picked it up with a simple questioned greeting, "hello?"

"Levi?" Erwin's voice hit my ears. "Hey, umm...Hanju and I apologize for our behavior yesterday evening. If you're worried about something we should believe you and help in any way possible before something truly does happen." He spoke with an honest and apologetic tone.

I clicked my tongue, "whatever. I'm already over it."

"I'm glad to hear that but I still feel horrible for-"

"I know who the runner is," I interrupted his rambling.

"-I mean…" there was a slight pause, "wait, what?"

"I already figured out who the fuck has been running around at night like some shitty fugitive." I explained.

"Really? Who is it? Is it someone dangerous? You can always stay with me and I'm sure that-" Irritation was evident in my voice, "It's just some stupid ass kid from down the block!"

"Oh, that's good. So, do you know why he's sneaking out? Was I right about the girlfriend theory?" The blond was clearly hooked.

"I'm not quite sure. So far, from what I know, he's a case of fucking bad news. There's been filthy beer bottled on their shitty lawn and lots of yelling in both early morning and late evening. I'm guessing the prick's quite the rebel; a two-sizes-too-big thug sweatshirt, long jeans, and all the drinks he could want in his hand. Hell, I found him fucking crying with quite the bloody nose; possibly even broken! I'm guessing he lost quite the fight yesterday and decided to run before even more shit hit the fan." Erwin was diligently listening, making short noises to show his understanding.

"Wow, sounds like quite the problem child. How are the parents?"

"Well, Carla, the mother, is quite the woman. I guess she grew up in Germany, came to this shitty country, got pregnant, raised a child all throughout high school, and now lives here in fucking Maria Grove." I explained trying to speak kindly seeing as she was a respectable woman.

"She's quite the woman! It's horrid knowing that her son is acting up in such a way. Is the father perhaps missing?" Erwin was definitely thinking about this.

"There is a male figure however he may not be per say the father figure. Also, the man looks quite a bit older than Carla but it may just be his ancient style; long hair and small circular bifocals." Erwin took a moment to ponder.

"Well, the idea you have sounds probable but there could be many things going on behind closed doors." As he spoke, I went to sit on my leather living room sofa. As I did so, the brightness of the afternoon sun caught my eye. "The kid may be bullied for all we know. Or perhaps it's even worse! Maybe he is-" In the middle of Erwin's sentence my pupils landed on the dark clothing.

"I've gotta go!" I hung up without another word as Erwin was in mid sentence. I quickly threw my Iphone on the cushioned couch. My agile feet led me out the door in no time, Eren spotting me and tightening up. I moved closer and he began to panic, stepping back slightly. I went from a slow walk to an all out sprint in the blink of an eye, the brat trying to run. My hand wrapped around the cuff of his zipped jacket. One of the kid's secrets was going to be revealed just by the simple action of taking a hold of him. As my fingers managed to have coiled around the sleeve of the baggy cover up, he let out a pained gasp and I felt it; dry, crusted blood just beneath the tips of my fingers that somehow managed to find their way under the over-sized sleeves and onto uneven, marred flesh. At the realization, I pulled my hand away, feeling a pang of shock and sadness rush through me like a raging hurricane. The boy simply took the moment to run. Knowing that I had to do something, I grabbed onto his billowing hood and dragged him into my house. He fought me tooth and nail however his voice never came out once; no begging or pleading of release.

Once inside, I moved him to my living room and told him to take a seat. He simply shook his head, face seeking freedom. "Brat, take a fucking seat before I plant you there myself." He flinched as I rose my voice. I noted his behavior to know just what I was working with.

To give him a second to settle in, I went to grab us some tea. When I returned, he was seated at the farthest end of the sofa. "Would you care for some Earl Grey?" I waited a moment, getting no reply. I simply rolled my eyes, pouring some for myself and then some for Eren. To make it even clearer that I made a glass for him, I pushed it closer to him, his body tightening up once again.

"Kid, you don't gotta act like I kidnapped you! I mean….yeah….this situation looks bad seeing as I dragged your ass into my shitty house but I almost ran you the fuck over yesterday! I think I clearly have my reasons for needing a damn talk." I spoke bluntly, his foreign eyes locked onto my dull grey carpet. "Oi, I'm talking to you!" My hand shot towards him to lift his chin so we could speak with at least half way decent eye contact. With my sudden actions, he jumped and swatted my hand away in surprise.

"M-mr. Levi, please...don't touch me," he finally spoke however the volume of his words were just barely audible.

"Oh, so you can talk!" I scoffed. "What's kept you from speaking until now? Got nothing interesting to say or are you just too shy to ever voice your thoughts? Or do you perhaps have some vocal issues or something?" I rudely snorted after the question only to be silenced by his words.

"Never said I didn't…"

"Well, do you then?" I openly asked, my eyes giving him both a stern, bored look.

"N-no, I….I just don't like people," he explained quietly. "It's better not to associate yourself with others unless you have to because….they'll only hurt you in the end."

"Hmmm," I hummed, "then do you perhaps have a social anxiety?" The boy jumped at the idea, teal orbs now on me once again. He did however refrain from eye to eye contact, instead looking at my neck or chest rather than at my face.

"Y-yeah," he looked once again to the floor, "I guess you could call it that."

We continued speaking for a few minutes, his whispering continued as did the averting of his eyes. His actions were quick and skittish, clearly the signs of being both nervous and uncomfortable. Truthfully, he was going to be feeling even more uneasy in about two minutes.

"Eren," I interrupted our random conversation, my strong voice startling him slightly. "I have a few questions that I want you to answer truthfully, okay?"

"Wh-what? I-i'm not-" his stuttering showing signs of weakness.

"Do you drink?" My question clearly hit him, his foreign eyes now wide and staring into my own.

"Wh-why would you-"

"Just answer please. I'm trying to be patient but I just simply want the answers." He shied away, obviously frightened by my dominant tone.

"N-no, sir." He replied no louder than a submissive squeak.

"Whose beer bottles are those on your front lawn?" I watched him carefully, his body trembling weakly. The boy mumbled something too quietly for me to hear. "Eren, who is drinking in your household?" I repeated, my tone stern as always.

"M-my dad, okay!" He answered, anger somehow apparent in his hushed voice. I ignored the boy's gruffness, taking his words and making a mental note.

"Who gave you the frickin' bloody nose?" The boy immediately shook his head in silence. "Eren, no one is going to hurt you here so just tell me." I received the same reply. "Are you being bullied? Did one of your parents do this as punishment? A tough ass girl reject you with a brusque punch?" He continued to shake his head. "Eren, give me something and I promise that I will help in any way that I possibly can!" Once again I was met with his visible denial to cooperate. "Come on! Give me something!" I barked rather loudly in annoyance.

"Drop it." His response was short and to the point. His anger clenched fists and tear-stained face were what pushed me to truly just stop interrogating him.

"Eren, I'm just simply trying to help," I reassured, calming my voice as much as humanly possible.

"I know that already but I clearly don't want your help."My brows furrowed slightly as his low-volumned voice denied me and my efforts.

"Okay, I know you don't want help or feel that you need it but Eren, trust me, you do. Whatever is going on isn't right and I can vouch for that! Beer bottles shouldn't be on display in your front yard and you certainly shouldn't be running out past curfew without some form of protection!"

"Shut up," he raised his voice, wide eyes planted on the floor and sweat rolling down his forehead. Oddly, I was somewhat startled by his strong vocal outburst however I tried my best not to react and show any weakness. "Everything is fine! I don't need any help!"

"Eren, you really do need help though!" I spoke, sadness evident in my usually smooth, velvety (somewhat stern) voice.

"You don't und-"

"I do though!" My audacious interruption left teal eyes on me. "Eren, you need help whether you like it or not!"

"How would you even know!" He yelled, now standing up and towering ever-so-slightly over me and my short build. "You aren't me and you definitely haven't lived my life so how do you fricking understand!"

"Eren, I know about the scars!" His whole body tightened up, his mouth and eyes frozen open to show his obvious emotions; he was clearly frightened and flabbergasted.

"Y-you...what?" His lips connected and his eyes filled with abhorrent anger.

"I-" The words that had slipped from my mouth only seconds ago clearly changed the atmosphere. The possibility of becoming a safe-haven was obviously dwindling now that I had made that point clear. Could I truly stop the fight that I saw coming or would Eren's enraged comments strike first? Would I somehow manage to pull through or would I fail and regret my slip of the tongue? 'Gosh….what the fuck am I going to do...'


End file.
